My Lord Father
by Salome Sensei
Summary: A series of 46 - and counting - pre-canon glimpses into the intense relationship between emo!teen Sesshoumaru and his dominant Papa, in 100-word dirty-dog bites. Adults only. See fic for specific warnings. 5 new flashback drabbles up: June 2011.
1. 1 through 10

**Author's Note**: This series of 100-word drabbles describes the passage into young adulthood of Sesshoumaru through his intense, turbulent, and intimate relationship with his father, the Lord of the Western Lands. The 10 entries here were originally written for the prompts at the LJ Comm 36IYEroticTales. I am grateful to the Comm and its mods and members for providing a supportive space in which to begin this project. If I continue past 10, the prompts will be my own and posted only here and at AFFnet.

**Backstory**: Though it can be read in line with canon, this fic is based on the AU fic "CLAIMING KIN" that I co-write with TalonSage in which InuTaisho does not die and his son grows to adulthood as the young lordling of the Western Lands. Their relationship is loving but always tense, as Sesshoumaru must someday fight his father for dominance, though he is determined to find a new way – to live in a kingdom ruled by two alphas, father and son, in a way that has never yet been achieved.

**Warnings**: I interpret the father/son pair as erotically charged and sexually intimate in "doggy" ways. Hence, these drabbles contain yaoi and inucest. Some D/s, S&M, angst, some lemon, and WAFF, too. Also, if you don't like little glimpses and prefer regular chapter fic, this is probably not for you. I enjoy the challenge of making little 100-word nuggets that pull as much as possible from each word; you may not, and that's fine. Just know that telling me to "make them longer" is not a useful critique.

My Lord Father

1: Giving Orders

Your eyebrow arches with subtle power as you feel the hint of resistance within me at your command. I do as bid—I am always loyal, I honor and respect your leadership above all. And yet, I pause now in ways I never did. A moment passes between your order and my reply, and we both feel it as though it were the passing of an era. I still belong to you, my Lord Father, as I always will. But I am coming into my own. We both feel its onset. No punishment or mounting will change this inexorable passage.

2: Love

When all is still, I glide into your chambers to find you, massive and beautiful, dozing in your chair before the fire. I slip into your lap and become small again. Your fur wraps me and your hair caresses me as you lean down, eyes drifting open and burning their love into my hardening heart. Keep me supple, Papa. Part your lips and claim my mouth. Let my kiss speak: I belong to my Lord Father. Your hardness stirs beneath my hips, spurring my own. No lesson, no test: just like calling to like, alpha to alpha, father to son.

3: Freedom/Restraint

You bind me hard and beat me for my disrespect once again, my Lord Father. Yes, I hold contempt for your concubines. Do you not demand honesty in all things? Mother may be strong and wise enough to tolerate your excesses. I am not. We both know that the strap, however lavishly applied, will change nothing. Your punishment will exhaust us and launch a merciless intimacy that will fill me then leave me barren. Never give me freedom, Papa. Welt then claim the pale flesh of your one true son and heir. For this ripe moment, belong to me alone.

4: Gentle

Those who have seen my Lord Father issue decrees, command troops, or transform into the massive canine beauty of his true form know well the enormity of his power. But he wields his might in other, more subtle ways that only a privileged few glimpse. Slipping into bed beside me after a long day a ruling the kingdom, Papa wraps my lanky body in his arms and presses his warm lips to my forehead. "How grateful I am for you, my pup," he grunts, and, despite our unavoidable struggle, I whimper and know myself loved as few others ever will.

5: Rings/Jewelry

"To whom do you belong?" you demand, voice growl-thick with possessive dominance, as you slide the slender, hand-wrought silver band down around my stiffening cock. Decorated with my name and polished to a soft-edged sheen, I look down at it, mouth agape. "I belong to my Lord Father," I reply, my voice an awed hush. As you fit it down to the base, I gasp, feeling it trap my erection for your zealous gaze. You step back to admire the handiwork, and I bask in the richness of your husky declaration: "My precious Sesshoumaru is so beautiful for his Papa."

6: Voyeurism/Exhibitionism

_Whore_ is too good a word for such as her, and yet you give her your fuck as if she deserves it. You'll pup her; I can smell it from where I stand, hidden from view. I am disgusted but mesmerized by your groans and her pathetic declarations of love. How can you need this, Papa? When you pound into her so hard she cries out, I must look. I peek and find myself instantly pinned, paralyzed by your gaze. You always know, Papa. Your eyes flare, but I am willing and able to pay the price of my curiosity.

7: Garden/Flowers

I stroll with my Lady Mother through her high-walled garden, thick with blooming vines and ripening fruit trees. She is serenity itself, wherever she goes. Mama's poison is exceptionally toxic; her love for Papa is equally potent. My birth nearly took her life. My rearing has been no less challenging. "His appetite is as indomitable as his will, my Sesshoumaru," she smiles. "I do not begrudge his indulgences. I know he belongs to me—and to you, child." I snarl and stomp off, crushing cherry blossoms beneath my boots, even as the truth of her words forces its way in.

8: Hotspring

There are times when the castle, for all its vastness, becomes claustrophobic. Just living in my skin, feeling the swell of my poison: it's as if the walls are closing in. I spend hours pacing, resisting responsibilities, resenting everything and nothing. As the sun sets, I finally flee, vaulting skyward and heading for a mountainside hotspring to soothe aches I can barely name. But as I slip from my garments and into the hot, soothing water, I still feel your aura. No matter how far away from you in body, I still belong entirely to my Lord Father. I howl.

9: Discipline

I have been bound to a bench and beaten with leather strap and braided whip. I have been publicly mounted, that Lords and Ladies alike might witness my Lord Father's absolute power. And I have been made to perform tasks so menial as to make even a servant pause. All of this I bear as proudly as I am able, even haughtily when I can muster it. Only one punishment destroys me, and how well you know it. When you banish me from your sight, Papa, I can only hope it slashes your heart as deeply as it does mine.

10: Moonlight

It is wolves who howl at the moon, Papa, not dogs. Yet when you strike that sweet, aching spot within me, over and over, barreling past my defenses and my barriers--both physical and emotional--I rear back my head and howl. I yelp and whimper and whine for my Lord Father, for your indomitable will, the heft and might of your cock, the inexorable pounding you give me on this full-moon night. You come to me, so much more than a lover. Just for this night, I am all: Papa's whore, Papa's bitch, and Papa's purebred son and heir.


	2. 11 through 14

Author's Note: I am pleased to continue this fic through the availability of a new LJ comm (iy_bsides) to inspire me with thematic prompts! Yay!

~

11. Lost

Where we are going and how we will end remains to be seen in this process of becoming. You misinterpret my desire for autonomy as rejection, as disrespect for your authority. You wanted an Alpha son, my Lord, and you have one. Can you not treasure this, let us both embrace something new in the Western Lands: father and son, ruling together, bonded in ways none can tear asunder? That is truly what I crave. Even as I struggle and resist, I know that to lose your favor, your love, would be to lose more than my life is worth.

12. Shades of Gray

My world as a child was rife with color. I kissed the indigo crescent on my Lady Mother's brow that signifies her potent clan. I traced fingertips along the jagged magenta stripes that mark your majesty, Father. I treasure and reflect the opulence of my heritage. And yet maturation under your strict control has dulled my vision. That which was once so richly hued has become weak and gray. Know that each command you bark to thwart my independence of mind and body robs me also of vision. Loosen your grip, Father, and let me see in color once again.

13. Making Up after Breaking Up

I hear the whispers around court. I ignore them. Lesser creatures making lesser noise. They chatter of a rift within the kingdom, say that Lord Tai and Lord Sesshoumaru have reached an impasse, that son will soon challenge his father and will die. Fools. They do not hear me, padding softly to your chambers when candlelight shines beneath the oaken door. They do not know how I enter and give myself to you. Heart and body. Yours. No conflict can divide us long, Sire. Now or ever. Let them talk of severance, of alienation. We know the more complex truth.

14. I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; I lift my eyes and all is born again. ~ Sylvia Plath

I do not fall ill often. Being an exceptionally toxic creature has its advantages. After a birth that nearly killed my Lady Mother and an infancy in which my survival was unsure, I grew slowly and steadily into my power. Yet, adolescence is another time of trial, and more than once as my body changes I have sickened, lain unconscious for hours or days. I try not to fear; I know this will pass. Still, there is only one true reassurance: reawakening to find you holding me close. I look up at you—strong and solemn-eyed. "Papa is here, Sesshoumaru."


	3. 15 through 18

Author's Note: Thanks for prompts from Iyhedonism (Mine, Fresh, Raw) and Iy_bsides (Green).

15. Mine

My Lord Father never disputes that I am Alpha. My Lady Mother could sense it when I was still in the womb. My aura rings with the power imbued me by heritage. I was born to lead and lead I will. Yet, when you summon me to consult on a matter of diplomacy or defense, showing the beginnings of a respect I strive daily to earn, your scent is rich with the message that I will never surpass you or belong to any other as I belong to you. I meet this truth, head-on, and bow to it without yielding.

16. Fresh

Which reeks more, Papa, the new human whore or your pride in adding to your stable? I can smell both, and the knowledge that you will surely pup this one, as I am forced to join you at the banquet table, a diplomatic dinner that would turn my stomach even if not for the stench of your shameless sexual avarice. I sip tea and foment rebellion in my soul, not in challenge to your rule and consider inevitable, but against a life of stockpiling. How many moons will this bitch occupy you, Papa, keep you from an only son's bed?

17. Raw

Flay me alive, Papa. Skin me down to the bone. Lay bare the truth for us both to see and hear and smell. Devour my flesh with your razor-clawed possessiveness, your perfect, vicious love. Hurt me as I hurt you and know you will never shame me. Brutally bound, bare and sweating blood, I crave your hard gaze upon every inch of my body, beating yourself as you beat me. Every stroke is perfect, the lashes unrelenting, until there is no crime and no punishment, only the one true reality of father and son, alpha and alpha, now and forever.

18. Green

It's new, this "invitation." Does it speak of my growth in your eyes from a harshly indulged child to the desiring adult I am swiftly becoming? Or is it simply a new form of entertainment, a display to make you hard, like a concubine's seductive dance? The youkai servant is well chosen, a bitch and yet slender and boyish. Of low yet respectful birth, she quietly disrobes and readies herself for my mount. She will not receive my seed. O Papa, if my cock is hard, it is because you, not she, command my performance. How could it be otherwise?


	4. 19 through 22

Author's Note: Thanks to Iyhedonism (#19) and Iy_bsides (#20-22) for the prompts.

19. Ripe

How many meanings a single word can have, my Lord Father. You summon me before the sun has fully risen, from dreams of dragons I slay with my bare claws. As you pin and possess me, sitting hard on my thighs, thick fist wrapping and stroking our cocks together, you murmur, "So ripe." Am I a fragrant plum, sweet fruit of your loins, readily devoured by your endless alpha hunger? Or is it possible I am this and more, Papa? Do your lust-glazed eyes also find me ripe in growth, mature, and ready for all you have made of me?

20. Honor

The bath is viciously hot, just as I like it. The bathing servant is handsome, muscular, skilled. He labors earnestly to relieve me of aches in joints and tension in muscles. He is respectfully silent as he washes my hair with hands tender and firm, to give me ease. No words are necessary. I do him honor by letting him soothe me, a greater honor than you did me, my Lord Father, in commanding a public wrestling demonstration against your champion and barring weapon, fang, claw, and poison. We must each and all conduct ourselves honorably, must we not, sire?

21. Coming home/Homecoming

Sometimes it is good to fly away. To soar, as my powers allow, high above and far beyond the castle into the dark night sky. I alight in the crook of a century-old tree and listen to the sounds of the wild with envy. Alas, I am no bird-of-prey, no forest cat, no winding snake. In the breeze, I feel your breath in my ear. In the glow of stars, I find your gaze. Will the world ever be larger than you? When I return, I find you waiting, a disarming serenity in your golden eyes. "Welcome home, my son."

22. A coward is incapable of exhibiting love; it is the prerogative of the brave. ~ Mohandas Gandhi

My Lady Mother sits proudly in her chair by the fire, me at her feet. She brushes my hair in long, sensuous passes. Her touch is magic, and I feel a fool for how rarely I allow it of late, simply because she permits me to say no while, you, my Lord Father, do not. "He would give up all of his kingdom for you," she says, voice as smooth as the strokes of the comb. I fidget, unwilling to break the spell by expressing disbelief, unable to remain still. "Someday, my child, you will recognize the faith that requires."


	5. 23 and 24

A/N: Thanks to Iyhedonism for the prompts.

23. Whimper

I sit at the enormous oak desk, drafting diplomatic missives that will never be sent, in elegant script borne of stringent lessons and ample threats of punishment. Everything is still for practice; nothing truly matters. And yet it does. Everything matters. You steal silently forth to peer over my shoulder, to observe my progress. I sensed you before you even entered the room, of course. "Your signature need not be so large," you say softly, drawing claws up my back and breathing softly into my ear. I stifle a whimper and force the brush to remain steady in my hand.

24. Wander

I no longer follow you when you leave the castle, smelling in need of the hunt, my Lord Father. You have desires neither my Lady Mother nor I can fulfill. Images are already burned into my memory from past foolhardiness, where I spied and glimpsed more than a child's eyes—no matter how precocious or highborn—need have seen. I do not deny your right to an appetite befitting your status, to hungers suited to your might. As my revered mother says, you always return. Yet, I remain unconvinced that your love for us will return in tact with you.


	6. 25 through 28

Author's Note: Thanks to LJ Comm InuRomp for the prompts.

25: New

There is something different, something new about this one, the unworthy human bitch my Lord Father has claimed and bedded. Unlike the others, he has given her not only his fuck and his protection but his seed. I rage at the injustice, the betrayal. How calmly my Lady Mother speaks of it! Understanding pours forth from her as sour, impotent fury pours from me. She accepted the breadth of his need long ago, she reminds me. She permits even this offence. I cannot. The bitch's love is water while mine is blood. Papa, can you not see how I bleed?

26: Taste

You pin me so easily, Papa, brute strength only part of the reason I give myself over to you with so little struggle. Your knees press hard into my shoulders as you straddle me, grinning as you rub your hard, wet cock across my cheek. "My beautiful boy," you murmur, pre-cum painting my face, "my Sesshoumaru." I know in that instant the depth and might of your love, and I cannot but simultaneously admire and resent your methods when you add, "Show Papa how you suck cock, my perfect child," and shove that thick, swollen heat down my unprepared throat.

27: Stray

You use me so cruelly, my Lord Father. I am punished for storming out of the hall when you negotiated with the kitsune Lord for land rights…and his daughter. Your sexual proclivities are not mine to dictate, you remind me, your whip raising welts on my ass. Then I am leashed and muzzled, put on hands and knees at your feet as you dine with my Lady Mother and a few royal guests. You stroke my head softly, rhythmically. "Strays who would make good pets must be trained," you explain, so all can hear. I burn, helpless against your will.

28: Awake

My punishment over, you free me from leash and muzzle and send me off to think about what it means to be the son of the Lord of the Western Lands. I bite my tongue to keep from demanding you think about what it means to be sire to the heir to the Western Lands. I pace furtively until the early morning hours, then launch into the moonless sky. Silently, I slip into your open window and approach your bed. You are awake, of course, golden eyes glowing. "Come to Papa," you say, pulling back the furs to welcome me.

_


	7. 29 through 31

Author's Notes: Prompts from LJ Comm **InuRomp**'s Fall Challenge "Creamy" List. The usual doggy inucest warnings.

29. Wary

You smell the change, do you not, my Lord Father? What other excuse can there be for your lenience, your patience, your nonappearance in my chambers so many nights in a row? My scent is tinged with a new sharpness: the son who is no longer a child, the heir who is no longer merely his Sire's obedient shadow. My aura demands you see me, Papa, know me as I am, and as I am becoming. Your absence speaks of an unfamiliar hesitance, and I am fascinated, all curiosity, drawn to this new fragrance even as you shy from mine.

30. Fire

My body has become traitorous. I lie awake, muscles spasming and a scorching ache between my legs. I throw back the furs to watch my cock transform into a dog's: blunt, glistening, and angry red. My whole body is ablaze, and the desire to sink my fangs into a prone body beneath me, to mount and fuck it viciously, overwhelms me almost to unconsciousness. I begin to wonder whether I will survive adolescence. When I come to myself, you are beside me, hand stroking and taming the burning beast. "Easy boy," you murmur, tenderly bringing me to climax. "Papa's here."

31. Bloom

"Fruit is sweetest when ripe," pronounces my Lord Father, intruding upon my lesson. He no doubt heard me disagree with my Sensei, a foolish old man, steeped in tradition and unaccustomed to change. There are new methods of planting, I argue. I welcome change. "You are fruit of my loins and heir to my lands," Papa declares, sitting on the desk before me. He spreads his massive legs, and shoves his hakama-clad groin purposefully in my face. Sensei looks away. "A bud will blossom unless unexpected frost shortens its life. You would be wise to heed this basic lesson, Sesshoumaru."


	8. 32 through 35

**Author's Note: **Four more fresh little nuggets based on prompts at LJ Comm **InuRomp**.

32. Lazy

I pose before the fire, slender and pale against the furs, still wet from my bath. I know exactly how I appear, hair slick and body lithe, putting my beauty to best advantage before you. You busy yourself with matters of state under candlelight, putting ink to scroll with powerful mind and hand. It won't be much longer now. Naked in the warm glow, I sprawl, stretch, feign a yawn. "It is so restful in your chambers, Papa. I hope I am not disturbing—" And you are upon me, fangs at my throat, before I can finish the thought.

33. Awash

"Wake, child," he commands, standing over me in the darkness. "I have need of you." He is a mountain no might can move, no storm can erode. I blink up at him, heavy with sleep. Dominance flows from my Lord Father, an aura so rich I can scarcely breathe. His eyes turn down and mine follow, to find him stroking that massive inu cock with a determined grip. "Father, I…" I falter as I watch him tense as his ejaculate sprays, anointing my face, splashing hot and thick over me, marking me once again, now and forever, as Papa's boy.

34. Fragile

There is an inimitable majesty in Papa's smirk. He has just punished me for "scaring off" another tutor, so it is a smirk of satisfaction not anticipation. My ass and back burn as he replaces me over his clothed lap. He strokes my bare, reddened flesh again, reiterating discontentment that I refuse to learn the distinction between true dominance and bullying the weak. "If he is so frail of spirit," I provoke, "how dare he presume to teach your heir." His claws dig into my bruised hip. I wince. "My beautiful, arrogant Sesshoumaru," he chuckles, and begins to spank anew.

35. Peek

I alight outside your study. Through the open window, I smell your arousal and hear your ragged breath. So close to release: I know the signs as if your excitement is my own. I whimper in sympathy, even as my stomach turns with jealousy. My Lady Mother works in her garden. So, whose unworthy body do you claim? I have poison and covetousness enough for her slaughter. Yet, when I steal inside, I find you alone, sprawled in your great chair. Your cock is in your hand, poised for climax. "Papa," I moan. You turn, catch my eye, and peak.


	9. 36 through 40

**Author's Note:** 5 more! Adults only! "Thanks" comes from **Iyhedonism** and the rest complete a 15-prompt challenge at **InuRomp**! At the moment, I am wondering whether this isn't a good time/place to end this collection.

36. Risk

I am pinned beneath you in a display that once was playful. You grinned down at me then almost as you do now, eyes sparkling, brimming with hunger and dominance. I can nearly believe I am still your pup, your precious babe, ready to yield all for your love. But now is not then; this is not a game. "To whom do you belong?" you ask again, voice a low growl. I risk silence. We both know I am yours but I will not say it. That you rise and depart without striking me hurts far more than any blow.

37. Deep

There is no word in our language for the way your cock feels when you force it into me. So deep I cannot even cry out in pain. I am rendered mute by the way it claims me from the inside, the way you rend and possess me, claim and undo me in one savage yet loving thrust. "No one but I will ever take you this way," you growl softly in my ear, an alpha's promise to his alpha son. Someday I will belong only to myself, you vow, even as your knot begins to swell, and I swoon.

38. Conquest

"You have become so passive of late, my son," my Lord Father says, his voice rough-edged yet calm and thick with power, cock impaling me as I am thrown over his desk. I do not resist, will not. I will not display my fury at your treatment again, Papa. I will not feed you this way, drive you with my defiance until you are drunk with lust and power and I am lost to myself. You take me by the hair, twist my face to yours, and kiss me then. I whimper like a pup, spilling my seed before me.

39. Thanks

Long ago your tiny body lay quivering beneath me as I gave my loving dominance. My body covered yours, telling without words that you belong to me as you will to no other so long as you live. Now, my growing boy, you writhe, snarl softly with my cock deep inside you. You take it, relish the struggle, your prick hard and leaking into my palm. Soon you will rebel openly. I have been grateful for every phase, every moment of your life, my precious terror. Shall I not then be equally gratified as the alpha youkai rises within you?

40. Wildcard (InuRomp open prompt, which I used for SessMama POV)

"Hush, my pup. Let your tears come as they must, but heed my words. I feel your pain as if it were my own, child. I gave you life nearly at the cost of my own, and would do so again without hesitation. Your father, though you may not now believe it, would give his life for you, too. Your rage comes from the fierceness of your love, as does his. I see the poison of my clan and the power of your father's blood swirl within your golden eyes. The future will be bright, my Sesshoumaru. Never doubt this."


	10. Bedtime

Note: Though I finished this collection, the Bedtime prompt at lj community hentai_contest and the review/encouragement of FireMiko-Kagomechan inspired me to write these 100 words more...

**Bedtime**

There comes a time when a child is too grown to accept a father's control, a time when a son must resist, respond, rebel. There is no one more beautiful or magnificent than you, my Lord Father, and yet I will stand proudly before you and insist upon my right to defiance, to declare myself a lord in my own right. Then, I will take your beating, the alpha mount you claim. You are and will always be more powerful than I. But know, Papa, that when I climb into bed, battered and ego-bruised, I will refuse your conciliatory embrace.


	11. Soft Lessons

June 24, 2011

Adult readers only.

Note: I get such pleasure at continuing "My Lord Father" in this group of five flashback drabbles, as Sesshoumaru learns from his Papa about his pelt. (In this world and CLAIMING KIN from which it comes, the pelts at Sesshoumaru and his father's shoulders are living, sensitive appendages with erotic power and minds of their own.) These little "lessons" were inspired by a recent RP session between Talonsage and me and posted as a flashback chapter called "Disobedient Fur" in CLAIMING KIN. The link for that story on AFFdotNet can be found in my profile.

Warnings: Inucest, shota. Don't read if you don't groove on such escapist fantasies.

**Soft Lessons**

Soft Lesson 1

I lie, naked and exposed in my bed, in the splendor of chambers befitting the one true son and heir of the Great Dog Lord. But I am alone. The pelt that is both adornment and appendage slithers softly around my waist, wraps my wrist. My mind races back to early days, when my Lord Father was protector and teacher, omnipotent and merciful. I see his smile, the sparkle in his eye as he taught his pup about our fur, vestige of our dogform, of shared inuyoukai inheritance. How bitterly I long for that era of simple obedience and belonging.

Soft Lesson 2

"Gently, my son." His claws carefully stroked my fur, making me shudder and whine. I was crying, as I never cry now. My pelt and I were at war, it seemed, as I learned it was neither separate from me nor entirely in my control. It tickled me when I tried to sleep; it wriggled between my legs in the bath and would not be washed properly. And if I dared puppyish retribution, squeezing or swatting at it, I felt a terrible, hollow ache low in my belly. Only Papa's fingers could still the traitor at my shoulders back then.

Soft Lesson 3

I watched, eyes wide and lips parted in awe, as Papa's fur danced and rippled down his back and toward me. "Let it come to me, my Sesshoumaru." His voice was as soft as I ever remember hearing. He knew well that our unique heritage required mature understanding. Just as my Lady Mother helped me to know the poison we shared, my Lord Father taught me the secrets of our pelts. I sighed a slow, deep breath, and released my futile attempt at control. The ache inside left me instantly as I watched and pleasured in the dance of fur.

Soft Lesson 4

"But it never asks, Papa," I whined, arms folded and glaring at the little white mass as if it was an intruder and enemy. "It's my prick, isn't it?" I'm sure my Lord Father was fighting back laughter as I complained of the competition between my fur and me. Precociousness and Papa's alpha possessiveness gave me an appreciation of my cock from the earliest of ages. I surrender to his control willingly then; need I serve my own fur's caprices as well? "My precious child," he crooned, "do you not feel how exquisite it is when pelt and cock embrace?"

Soft Lesson 5

Papa held me close as I let my fur explore his, making me shiver and moan at their unequaled meeting. Always before his larger mass dominated mine, but this day he chose to give me a taste of my own power. "Oh Papa," I whispered, so certain then that nothing could ever lessen my adoration and respect as I felt the waves of pleasure as my pelt stroked and wound around his. How still and confident he was, how easy in his power. If only we could return to the sweet, perfect days of those furred lessons, my Lord Father.


End file.
